


Against the World

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [12]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Butlers, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Relationship, Catharsis, Crimes & Criminals, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Friendship, I Know Olga Technically Has the Title of Housekeeper But Don't Tell Her That, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, POV Olga (Gotham), Temper Tantrums, Unconventional Families, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11195640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: Olga hugged [Oswald] tighter for a split-second before letting go. “You must leave Ivy with me,” she instructed, looking Ivy's tattered clothes up and down. “I will feed her, but I do not have outfit for a girl."“Hey!” Ivy exclaimed, hands on hips, obviously offended. “There's nothing wrong with my dress!”[Bonus ficlet from Olga's POV; picks up right whereWYFIR #26leaves off, set between that and during#27.]





	Against the World

Before Olga could even offer Oswald her arm for support, given he'd clung to it in horror as she delivered the news, he'd raced by her in frantic alarm with the tall, ginger-haired girl on his heels. She couldn't keep up with either one of them—neither Oswald's improbable swiftness, _nor_ Ivy's long-legged stride. She cursed the ache in her knees and made her way to the sitting room.

Gabriel shuffled along behind her, as if hesitant to leave the two assassins and chauffeur alone outside.

“You must come with me,” Olga insisted brusquely, shooting him a withering glance over her shoulder. “Oswald will need you now. Just like after his mother, to help decide what must happen next.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered uneasily, following Olga until they had reached the sofa, stopping beside her.

Oswald sat staring in silent, glaze-eyed shock at the television with Ivy perched close beside him. The girl tolerated Oswald's vise-grip on her fingers, squeezing Oswald's hand between her own.

“That's him, huh?” Ivy asked, patting the back of Oswald's hand as the news anchor spoke over the blurry photograph that someone had snapped in the theater scarcely half an hour before. “He dresses like Lady Gaga would if she didn't do the grunge thing when she's in drag.”

Attempting to reserve her focus for Oswald's next move, Olga nonetheless made a mental note to Google what the girl was talking about. Points of reference on Edward's taste would prove useful.

“He wore it,” said Oswald, tone flat, numbly squinting at the screen. “He wore the mask, didn't he?”

“Looks like something besides just the hat's covering his eyes, yeah,” Ivy agreed, turning her attention from the television to peer at Oswald in fascination. “Do you need to, like, scream or something?”

“ _Shhh_!” Oswald hissed, releasing her, causing her to recoil. “What was it they said about GCPD finding something on the scene?” He looked to Olga in desperation, distinct fury setting in. “You're the one who's been sitting here watching this! I need detail, Olga! _Please_!”

Olga sighed, walking around the back of the sofa until she stood directly behind Oswald. She set a hand on his shoulder—partly to steady him, partly to test the extent of his rage. He was livid.

“They say it was a box,” she told him, squeezing muscle and bone through layers of expensive fabric. Oswald was stronger than he looked, but Olga was strong, too. And she would not let him harm the girl, not even by accident. “A present for the police,” she went on. “Containing a riddle.”

Swift as a viper-strike, Oswald seized the half-full teacup Edward had left on the coffee table and flung it at the screen with an agonized, wordless scream. He fell back against the sofa and into Olga's waiting arms, struggling to breathe through the intensity of his sobs.

“It's...okay that you didn't clean up after him,” he hiccuped after several seconds, struggling to regain his composure once he realized that Ivy had leapt off the sofa and was staring at him. “I know you leave the stuff he doesn't finish lying around in hopes...he'll finish...”

Olga hugged him tighter for a split-second before letting go. “You must leave Ivy with me,” she instructed, looking Ivy's tattered clothes up and down. “I will feed her, but I do not have outfit for a girl.”

“Hey!” Ivy exclaimed, hands on hips, obviously offended. “There's nothing wrong with my dress!”

“Pretty, but shabby,” Olga sniffed, waving a hand at her. “And I do not care if you try to cover with perfume, my nose tells otherwise. You will bathe and maybe put on some of Edward's old clothes. You are nearly same size and height; they will fit. No shower, no dinner.”

“As long as I can wear the shiny stuff? _Fine_ ,” replied Ivy, folding her arms across her chest. “Not my fault I don't have the plumbing in my place up to code yet. It's like a million years old!”

“You do appear to share his favorite color,” Oswald blurted, unexpectedly laughing through his tears.

“Look, Pengy,” said Ivy, smiling as if amused at herself. “Can I call you that? _Jeez_ , okay. Sorry. _Mr._ Penguin.” She sat back down beside him, hands folded in her lap. “I know you've barely got me on payroll, but I accepted the job. That means something. I wanna help you find him.”

“If you help me find Ed,” Oswald replied miserably, toppling something from his pocket into his lap as he withdrew his handkerchief, “I imagine you might regret that decision as soon as you meet him.”

“Why?” Ivy asked, as if that were one of the silliest things she'd ever heard. “He looks _awesome_.”

Olga frowned, glancing at Gabriel. It was true that most of them found Edward moderately trying on the best of days and utterly insufferable on the worst. Still, he was the fine, breathtaking line between Oswald's newfound happiness and the past atrocities that haunted him without cease.

“Edward is an acquired taste,” Oswald said testily, blowing his nose, “and, while I expect you may come to acquire it sooner than many, I _urge_ you to reconsider volunteering for such a task.”

“Oh, I'm not,” said Ivy, cheerfully, punching Oswald lightly in the arm. “You're paying me, right?”

Oswald tossed the handkerchief down on the coffee table, took up the object from his lap as he stood, and regarded her with a grim smile. He offered Ivy the object he'd retrieved.

“ _You_ , at least for tonight, will do as Olga says,” he said, handing over the ragged origami penguin. “I know as well as the next piece of former street riff-raff that nothing gets done on an empty stomach.” He pointed at the paper bird. “Something for you to consider while you eat. Ed made that for me back when we were courting. His talents are many—and, once you get to know him, _predictable_. Gabe and I will head into the city with the ladies and gentleman waiting outside.”

“Oh my God,” Ivy said, blinking for a second before handing it back. “You guys are _nerds_.”

Olga went over to Ivy and tapped her on the dusty-coated shoulder, pointing sternly at the entryway.

“You will go upstairs and wait for me in bathroom at the end of the hall,” she instructed. “No funny business. If anything is missing, I can tell. If you climb out the window, I can shoot you from far.”

“Everybody's got a gun,” Ivy muttered, wandering out of the room, “but _I_ don't need one.”

“You might re-think that statement once you've been working for me a while,” Oswald sighed, turning back to Olga. “Please see to it that she's settled in before cleaning up my mess. Apologies.”

Olga shrugged, experiencing a swell of worry as Oswald put the origami penguin back in his pocket.

“I think it is good like before, hiring smart girls,” she told him. “But this one is very, _very_ young.”

“Twenty if she's a day,” remarked Gabriel, anything but dismissively. “She does things with plants. Put some kinda spell on me, you should see it. I ain't messin' with _that_ one anymore.”

Olga shook her head at him, addressing Oswald instead. “Much younger than she looks. I will ask.”

“Olga, get that power pack,” Oswald said, waving his phone. “Gabe, tell the others to get ready to go.”

“Yes, boss,” said Gabriel, glancing out into the entryway as if to make sure Ivy was gone, and went.

Once they were alone, Olga went over and opened the drawers in the dining table, rummaging until she came up with the requested item. She handed it off to Oswald, maintaining a fierce hold on his wrist.

“When the world is against you,” she said, squeezing as she let go, “you must turn against the world.”

“My dearest Olga,” replied Oswald, with sly admiration, “I _knew_ there was a reason I hired you.”


End file.
